Conscious, Conscientious

Irma swore up a storm.

The grass was already deep red around Pyper’s twisted form, and Pang could see it spreading.

But that didn’t deter her quietest teammate from sinking her feet into it. Aoi was the first to act, teleporting to Pyper’s side and kneeling over her before Pang had even processed the violence she’d just seen.

Her heart went cold.

How am I gonna break it to Aoi?

But her grim assumption proved wrong: Pyper’s hand curled. Then she stirred, recovering from the shock of the impact.

She was alive—but given the gruesome sight, Pang doubted that would remain true without serious intervention.

“Ms. Boss! Can y’hear me?” Benton called.

Pyper’s green locks shifted as she lifted her head. Evening out her glasses, she tried to smile through a wince.

“It doesn’t hurt much, guys,” she assured. “That power is numbing me.”

“Well…good. Nice work, Aoi.”

Pang wouldn’t have guessed this ‘numbing’ power had come from Aoi if Benton didn’t say it. Pyper’s head was perfectly turned from her, avoiding her concerned stare. She offered no thanks for Aoi’s contribution, as if the relief came on its own.

Pyper’s sign of life did little to appease her other teammates. Benton and Irma stood even more stunned than her.

“What was she thinking?” Irma whispered low.

Benton shook his head. “Aoi, bring ‘er here, please.”

Loyally, Aoi stood. Pyper floated up from the grass and hovered towards Benton, the side of her sweater blotched in a growing stain.

Benton caught her, careful to avoid the wound, as Aoi returned to the group. Immediately, Irma’s hand was over Pyper with her SquadScreen glowing green.

“Stay still. We like, don’t know how bad this is,” Irma urged, her composure dwindling.

But Pyper shook her head. “Don’t use the healing app.”

“Huh? Am I supposed to let you die?!”

Pyper shrugged, as if to entertain the thought, but her pensive gaze seemed to indicate another idea. “If I’m stuck with the side-effects, I won’t be able to train you guys on this mission,” she said. “Given that, we do have another option.”

She waited, clearly wanting her underlings to reach the conclusion on their own.

“Our target. That Deanna chick,” Pang gathered. “Her powers can probably heal you.”

“Probably,” Pyper agreed.

“Probably?!” protested Irma.

But by Pyper’s unrelenting contentment with the notion, Irma accepted she wouldn’t get anywhere debating her. She sighed, opting instead for a typical roll of gauze in her bag. The group waited until Irma was certain her first-aid had at least slowed the bleeding.

“Ugh. Come on. This way, right?”

“That’s right!”

Pang felt like she might keel over from sheer confusion. Although she’d been the one to guess Pyper’s proposed solution, she could hardly fathom the predicament in the first place.

What the heck just happened?

Before continuing on his way, Benton caught her eyes. His smile was tired and sad, a failed attempt to comfort her.

“You got a good heart, kiddo. But…it ain’t that we don’t wanna get outta this thing,” he explained softly. He cocked his head at Pyper’s wound. “…It’s that—even if we could afford to—we can’t get out.”

Pang’s face went hot. “Oh, so if we try deserting, we just get sliced by thin air. Got it. That would’ve been nice to know a second ago,” she spat. “How do they even pull that off?!”

Benton simply turned to walk. Pyper locked eyes with her, somehow still smiling, before they went on their way.

Pang shook her head. Bunch of crazies…and I thought I was cracked.

There was no use delaying Pyper’s rescue, so Pang rejoined their travels. But as she took her first steps after the others, Pyper’s fleeting glance danced around in her head.

Why would she take me up on my suggestion to escape? Pang wondered. Seems like she knew that attack would happen.

Pyper had so obviously egged Pang on to pitch the idea, and leapt at the invitation to do it.

I bet she factored in that the Deanna lady could heal her, Pang pointed out to herself. That means she had her bases covered so she could pull off this stunt.

Clearly, Pyper was trying to tell her something. She couldn’t have led Pang on and maimed herself just for the fun of it.

Pang watched her as they traversed the hilly greens.

Her eyes widened in realization:

‘If we want to escape,’ Pang could practically hear, ‘we have to think bigger.’

Nothing else made a shred of sense. If Pyper was indeed trying to convey a message, that had to be it.

She was onto Pang’s intentions, and she was on board.

So the first strongest is loyal to me, Pang contemplated, and now the second strongest is trying to help me.

A menacing grin spread.

Yet just the same, her strut slowed with a festering weakness. The escape plan felt great in the heat of the moment, but there was no way simply leaving would’ve worked—even without Proscious’ invisible security.

After all, how would Irma charge her legs? How would Benton support his children without pay?

There were more factors at stake than she’d been ready to consider. It was true: to pull this off, she had to do a lot more thinking.

Once more she eyed the oblivious Pyper, who pointed ahead to navigate the team.

But if I’m picking up what she’d putting down, Pang learned, then I might have just found the perfect person to help me do that…

~

“Alrighty, just head up this way.”

Irma didn’t hold back a hint of relief in her exasperated sigh. They’d scaled half a dozen of these hills. But somehow, even without checking a map, Pyper knew this was the last one.

Pang paused at the hilltop with the others. It met with several more to form a vast crown of grassy earth, and sure enough, a sign of habitation waited in the resulting valley between them.

“Seems cozy,” commented Benton.

Irma shrugged. “If you’re into roughing it, sure.”

Given the lack of solid structures or utilities, and the chilled humidity, Pang was more inclined to agree with Irma. Living down there would be like traveling in a consciousness team, but without any destination or promise of a better life in sight. It looked like limbo.

Short grass took up about a third of the long valley, where an assortment of travel tents and makeshift huts were the only buildings. At the very least, Pang had to admire their creativity: they’d woven thin sticks together to form the huts, even blending in assortments of pastel flowers to distinguish them from each other.

The source of those sticks and flowers, and likely all of their other resources, came from the remaining two-thirds of the valley: a natural garden rich with bushes and foliage, kaleidoscopic in its shades. Swamp water lurked in large patches underneath the overgrowth.

“You’re shakin,’ Ms. Pyper,” Benton noticed. “We gotta get you down there quick.”

“Sounds…good.”

Even her smile couldn’t hide that she’d turned a bit pale. The group began their descent in haste.

Pang scanned the perimeter around the valley, and then the tents and huts again. The hair on her arms stood up, her instinct for suspicion kicking in strong: not a soul was present.

“Something’s off. Where are these people?” she wondered.

“Eh, just an ol’ fashioned ambush incoming,” Benton shrugged off.

“Yeah, remember the episode we watched last night?” Irma reminded her. “They got to the town and all the streets were clear…”

The ground flattened out underneath the team’s feet as they reached the bottom of the slope.

“…And then, once they were deep enough in—”

Shuffles and muted thuds surrounded them. Just as Irma and Benton casually predicted, dozens of men and women appeared from behind and encapsulated the group, halting their walk.

“Aaaand there it is,” sang Irma.

Pang froze in place, resisting any body language that could give off her method of attack. The ambushers’ fighting stances proved they were clearly pro consciousnesses, and any who weren’t were at least trained fighters of some kind. Their glares were hard and unwavering, perhaps willing to kill.

But as Pang met some of their stares with her own battle-torn eyes, she wondered if they had what it took. They weren’t cold enough.

They weren’t like her.

“Hey,” Irma said plainly, arms crossed.

While Pang feigned a lack of preparedness, she knew her multi-powered friend required no readiness at all. With her speed, she could afford to improvise once the skirmish began.

But Benton’s hands were full with Pyper. Pang glanced Aoi’s way—to take on this many consciousnesses right now, she might be the only option.

“Leave this place, NOW!” one fighter barked.

“We know why you’re here. That man sent you!” roared another. “She’s not here anymore. Go away!”

If she’s not here, why be so aggressive? Pang immediately distrusted. Good grief, they’re bad at this.

“Now listen here,” tried Benton gently. “We don’t wanna fight anyone. Just doin’ our job.”

“LEAVE, or you’re GETTING a fight—”

“Stop, everyone.”

The crowd of heated habitants shuddered.

“­D—Deanna? No, hide!” someone whispered towards the back.

“You can stop. It’s alright.”

Stunned, the fighters in the front opened up a path, their shuffling hesitant yet obedient. They watched with desperate stares as the woman passed through.

It was indeed the lady from the photo in the briefing, with eyes like coal and long, spiraling hair that matched. Her steps were subtle as she neared.

Pang only needed to size Deanna up for a split second, already knowing her powers. She clearly wasn’t built like a fighter, making her defenders the only threat here.

We’re seriously out here kidnapping a lady who sits around healing people, Pang scoffed to herself. This is lame. At least give us someone easier to dislike.

“Deanna, please…these people…”

“She’s hurt,” Deanna pointed out. “It’s alright.”

Her loose dress waved in a breeze as she stopped before the team. She observed Pyper’s wound closer.

“I can heal you,” she offered. “But you all have to leave immediately after.”

“Thank you,” Pyper agreed, the sky’s reflection masking her eyes behind her glasses.

As simple as that, Deanna turned and led the way.

“But…Deanna!”

“They’re hired pros! They probably have healing tech!”

“So you should know why I’m doing this, then,” came Deanna’s calm reply. “I’ve heard all of your stories; you know how brutal it can be to travel with the healing side-effects. They’ll be gone sooner this way.”

The protests lessened to a chorus of unconvinced grumbles. With glares still glued to the Prosciousness team, the crowd eased up.

Pang studied the fighters further while she followed Deanna. Their fashion and appearances varied greatly, spanning realities from across the Multiverse. Many had patched their old, frayed clothing with elements of the garden.

These people were obviously traveling pros—or at least, they had been before settling here.

Some of them trailed from a distance.

We’ll have to watch our backs, Pang noticed.

Yet even with such a large amount of resistance—one that had been expecting them—the team had gotten in so seamlessly. In mere seconds, they’d earned time up close with their target.

It was far too easy.

“We were admiring your home a minute ago,” Pyper told Deanna, her voice a bit thin as she looked around. “It’s so pretty here.”

“Try not to move. You’re still bleeding.”

Just as before, Pang found herself absorbed with Pyper’s behavior.

Not only had her deliberate injury sent a message to Pang; it got Deanna to welcome them instantly. Having reviewed Proscious’s data, Pyper must have suspected an appeal to empathy would work.

The hair on Pang’s arms stood up yet again.

It was calculated, she realized. She had all of this planned out—making a point to me, AND getting us in.

Jeez…she’s good.

Deanna led them to one of the larger huts closest to the start of the garden. Pang swiped away a few persistent gnats, grateful for a reprieve when she filed inside.

Despite the wider size of the hut compared to many of the others, Pang found herself crammed shoulder-to-shoulder between Irma and Aoi. The threaded shelves all along the walls were covered in repurposed jars, and an overflow took up much of the ground.

Daylight flooded in from outside, so Deanna forwent lighting the torches. She directed Benton to a bed at the far end, where she helped him lay Pyper down with her wound elevated. Immediately, she went to work.

“Good job on the bandaging,” she noted, her now-gloved hands already covered in red.

“I’m a woman of many talents,” Irma boasted.

But the hut fell quiet as she proceeded. Her hands were steady and swift, performing a dance so fluent it seemed to hardly require thought. After she’d gotten a close enough look at the gash, Deanna turned to Pang.

“There should be a flask with light-blue liquid near your feet,” she inquired. “How full is it?”

“This? A quarter or so.”

Apparently that wasn’t the answer she’d hoped for. Deanna instead swiped an empty jar on a nearby shelf. She studied the wound one more time, so close Pyper fidgeted.

“This should take care of it, then.”

Deanna closed her eyes and sat in silence. Nearly a minute passed.

But just before she reopened her eyes, Pang sensed it: Imaginer energy.

A light blue liquid began filling the jar at Deanna’s command, emerging from thin air. It took no longer than a simple pour of juice.

Deanna’s focus was unbreakable. And behind her, Pyper’s was the same—but she watched without a trace of concern for her own condition.

She only saw potential.

Pang could tell: it was the same expression she’d worn herself, when she watched Phillip’s first dose of treatment take effect. She’d gained hope, but not for herself.

Pyper understood just how monumental this power could be.

Deanna applied the substance using a sort of brush made from leaves. Despite her slight distance, Pang could already see the wound reversing itself to health.

Even the TeamTrack healing app couldn’t treat lacerations that instantaneously.

Deanna sat back. “You’ll be able to travel just fine, now,” she said. “Take this jar and apply more if you notice the healing slow down. And to be safe, avoid any fighting or lifting for the next five hours.”

Pyper sat up, beholding what had now been reduced to a line of scar tissue across her side. “Neat…thank you so much, Deanna.”

But Deanna’s face was hard. “Now as you agreed,” she said, “you and your entourage have to leave immediately.”

“You’re right, we will,” conceded Pyper. With color returning to her face, her smile was soft.

But the silence between them seemed to confirm that they both knew what was coming next.

“…We are taking you with us, though.”

“You can’t,” Deanna immediately protested.

There it was again: the same furrowed brow from the photo—the same front of intimidation, yet transparent fear in her frown.

Pang’s gut twisted.

“I helped you,” Deanna implored. “I…I didn’t have to do that. Show some humanity.”

“I know. But it’s not a choice,” came Pyper’s gentle reply. “There never was a choice. Not for any of us, and not for you.”

“But…”

“I’m sorry.”

Deanna steadily backed up as far as she could against the hut wall. Her hands curled into shaking fists. “Then you’re choosing to fight a whole community of former pros. They won’t let you take me. Are you really prepared for that?”

“That’s like…kinda what we’re used to,” Irma cautioned.

Benton’s sigh cut through the exchange. “Listen…you’ll wanna make this easy, trust me.”

“Why should we make this easy for you?”

“I didn’t mean for us, ma’am.”

Deanna became like a ghost in the corner. Pyper’s colorlessness had passed on to her. At last, the reality was clear in her eyes as they bounced between each member of the team, who remained unflinching at her warning.

She was looking at a group of monsters.

The tightening in Pang’s stomach only worsened. She was one of these monsters. And as Pyper’s stunt proved back in the field, there was nothing she could do about that yet. A happy resolution to this standoff didn’t exist—only the result Proscious wanted.

It made her face hot.

“It’s a good thing you ended up with us. Other teams play dirtier,” shared Benton. “If y’all don’t fight, neither will we. You have my word.”

But Deanna still shook her head. “You can’t do this. These people need me.”

“Your powers might be able to help people everywhere,” Pyper encouraged.

“No—you don’t understand! Without me, these people will die!”

Tears soaked her face.

“I came here as a young girl,” Deanna elaborated. “My parents were caught up in trouble, so they were on the run when they found this valley. It’s flooded with poisonous plants and insects, so they knew it was the perfect place to settle: it’s too dangerous for anyone else, but with my powers, I could keep us healthy. My body would heal from any poison, and I’d turn that into antidotes and potions for my parents. So this has been my family’s safe haven ever since.”

“Hey Deanna…” someone checked in from outside.

“If you need us to drive ‘em out, just say the word. We’ve got you,” swore another.

A sorry smile formed on Deanna’s face. “Can you hear that? My family’s grown since then,” she emphasized. “These people are like me: wanderers, lost consciousness pros, runaways…people who needed shelter, or a new start. Some come and go, and some have nowhere else to go. But without my powers, this community can’t exist. Their home becomes uninhabitable without me.”

Pang noticed Irma toying with her sunglasses in thought.

“Then…can’t you, like, make a lifetime supply of antidotes they can use when you’re gone?” her lethargic roommate proposed.

There. Problem solved, Pang concurred.

“But that’s the problem,” Deanna said. “There are some poisons I still haven’t made antidotes for; just potions that can alleviate the symptoms for a while. The two species of plants at the heart of the gardens are unreachable, and it’s only getting worse. Every year they’re becoming more overrun with warring wolves and coyotes, and both seem to have developed generational immunities to them.”

Great. Another weird caveat.

“It’s given them strange powers…and they’re hostile,” Deanna said. “They won’t leave the area, so I can’t get close enough to use my abilities. We’ve tried so many times, but it’s impossible.”

She rose to her feet to near Pyper, and then kneeled at her feet. Her hands came together in a plea, inches from the wound they’d just healed.

“So please,” she persisted, “allow me to stay. Allow this community to survive.”

The light from outside caught Pyper’s glasses, once again hiding her eyes in the reflection. “I wish it were up to me,” she uttered.

Benton nodded and Irma shrugged in agreement. They were like candles at the bottom of their wicks, one flicker from giving away the loathing they truly harbored for themselves.

Pang remembered her small, bloody hands back on Artifex. She remembered the rookie teams she pummeled and stole from in No Man’s Land.

I guess nothing ever changes, she learned, fists shaking. No matter what, this is how I end up living my life. Why?

“Please, do the right thing. I love them all,” Deanna cried.

Nah, screw it. This is so dumb.

“Sorry ma’am,” retried Benton, “it’s just—”

“Everyone shut up!!” Pang barked.

Even Aoi pounced, turning like the others to meet her fiery eyes.

“Ugh, you’re all pissing me off…”

Pang marched into the center of the hut and pointed a firm finger at Deanna. “Listen, lady: if you can’t catch a hint, none of us wanna kidnap you. We all got abducted, too, and apparently they kill us if we try to leave.” She shot a glare at her teammates. “Yeah—didn’t know that one until today…”

“Uh…sorry, kid…” mumbled Benton.

“So basically, we’re stuck doing this crap whether we like it or not,” Pang told Deanna. “And I may be a newbie, but I used to kill to survive. I used to steal money from pros so my friend wouldn’t die. I know what these guys are feeling, and I’m so sick of living like that!”

Someone scraped at the outside of the hut.

“Hey—what’s going on in there, Deanna? Everything okay?”

“Shut your trap, I’m making a point in here!” Pang roared back. “Lady, here’s what’s gonna happen: we’re gonna take care of those wolves and whatnot, that way you can go in and make the cure. Then, you can take time to imagine all the potions and crap these people will need. We won’t take you with us until that’s done and your little fanclub is taken care of. And maybe one day—no promises, but one day—I’ll bring you back myself. Got it?!”

She didn’t initially realize how much her words must have sounded like a threat. Deanna remained pale.

“It’s impossible…you can’t beat them,” Deanna reiterated. “We’ve tried.”

“Well you can’t, but we’re not just a bunch of hobos,” countered Pang. “This sounds like nothing to us. Right, guys?”

Aoi nodded.

“Maybe coulda’ worded that a little nicer…” Benton mumbled.

Irma hesitated, eyeing her SquadScreen watch for the time. “So…when you say ‘we’re’ gonna go chase a bunch of wolves and coyotes…”

“Yes. You too.”

Irma groaned. “You’re lucky I have a heart of gold…”

Benton’s chuckle bounced through the hut. Shoulders rolling, he gave Deanna a much more convincing smile than before. “Sounds good to me. Ma’am, we’ll tie up all your loose ends right quick.”

Deanna wrapped her arms around herself, perhaps subconsciously. “But…if you fail…?”

“We won’t,” promised Pang. “There’s no way around the fact that we have to take you. But if we’re stuck doing something we hate, we’re gonna do it our way.”

She stood tall as she could, arms crossed as she flooded with confidence.

Then, a brief giggle resounded from the end of the hut. Pang’s eyes darted back to Pyper—in the heat of her tirade, she realized she’d bypassed the interim leader’s approval entirely.

Or maybe, based on the events in the field, she knew deep down that Pyper would agree.

But as the second strongest Proscious member stood from the bed, something was slightly different. Her fluttery energy and blissful smile hadn’t changed since they set foot in this valley, but still…something shifted.

Pyper walked slowly towards the exit, stopping just before Pang for a moment. Her eyes spoke a thousand words Pang couldn’t hear, and only a few emerged from her mouth:

“Interesting…Well, get to work, little ducklings.”